Among the Fair Magnolias Page 26

  But now, as she looked around their parlor through this man’s eyes, Nora wondered if everything she’d always perceived as warm and comfortable merely appeared shabby to him. Perhaps that was it.

  As the silence between them stretched, her beau cleared his throat. “Nora, you don’t seem yourself this evening.”

  She supposed that was true. After all, she didn’t feel very much like herself. But then again, how could she when Russell had returned? “Oh? Have I said something wrong?”

  “You haven’t had a chance to say anything wrong,” he said in his exacting way. “By my count, you’ve hardly said ten words.”

  “Surely you exaggerate.” She smiled to keep the lie a little easier to swallow.

  “I never exaggerate.” His eyelids drew down to half-mast as he examined her more closely. “Your silence has been most out of the ordinary. Are you ill?”

  She was ill at ease. But of course, that had nothing to do with him. “I’m sorry, Braedon. I had thought to shield it from you, but I am feeling a bit under the weather this evening. I’m feeling a little peaked.”

  “You were over at the Johnsons’ homestead today, weren’t you?”

  “I’m there every day.”

  “I feel for Mrs. Johnson, but it’s becoming apparent that she is not afraid to take advantage of you. It’s time to stop going over there.”

  “I can’t do that. She’s dying. She needs help.”

  “Then let someone who has experience in such things tend to her.” Piously, Braedon murmured, “Even the most helpful heart understands when things are in the Lord’s hands.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Perhaps you should consider doing something different with your time. It would be better for both of you. Think of it, dear. We both know that she needs more than just a brief visit from a well-meaning young lady.” He leaned back at last. Crossing his arms over his chest. “I pity her, but I care more about your well-being. We can’t have you putting yourself in harm’s way.”

  “My well-being is not being put at risk.”

  “Obviously it is. You just told me that you are more tired than usual. Perhaps I can send word to the churches and they can add her to their list of charitable visits. There are no doubt many in our community who would appreciate the benefits of tending to someone in so much need. Especially since that woman is Corrine Champion.”

  Nora flushed, already imagining the shame Russell’s mother would feel, knowing that her weaknesses had become fodder for the public’s discussion. “Braedon, I appreciate you caring for me, but the fact of the matter is that she won’t be on this earth much longer. Perhaps not even until the picnic.”

  “Which is more reason you need to let other tender hands see to her needs. You know I’m right, Nora.” Before she could respond, he said, “I’ll take care of things in the morning. Now, let’s talk of the dance that will be held after the picnic.” A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. “You will save me a dance or two, won’t you?”

  She didn’t want to talk about the dance.

  Actually, she couldn’t seem to think of anything but one particular man. “Russell returned,” she blurted. Perhaps if she spoke about his return in her life she would at last get over him.

  “Are you speaking of Corrine’s vagabond son?”

  She lifted her eyebrows in mock concern. “Vagabond, Braedon? To the best of my knowledge, you have never met him. I can promise that he’s nothing of the sort.” At least, she hoped that was the case.

  Umbrage straightened Braedon’s spine. “I never would wish to meet him.”

  “Then you shouldn’t speak of him. After all, you’re basing your judgment on hearsay.”

  “I know he killed his stepfather. I know that many people say he was rough and illiterate. And that he joined an outlaw gang. That’s all I need to know.”

  Was it? Did he not care that she’d once been so in love with Russell that she’d thought she’d always live by his side? She’d thought she’d forgive almost anything of him. Of course, she’d soon learned something about herself. She wasn’t possessed of much forgiveness.

  “There’s more to him than that.”

  “How do you know?” Staring at her intently, he lowered his voice. “Did you see him when you visited Mrs. Champion?”

  Nora drew in her breath, preparing to find a way to tell Braedon about their past relationship—and how she regretted her treatment of him—when a knock at the door brought her words to a halt.

  She turned her head in time to see Aunt Jolene open the door and then freeze. She heard a murmur, watched her aunt’s posture shift. Watched her frown as she stepped backward with obvious reluctance but still made way for the new visitor.

  Who just happened to be Russell Champion himself.

  His presence seemed to occupy the entire entryway. He towered over Aunt Jolene, with his imposing height, well-muscled body, shoulders that seemed to stretch the limits of his white broadcloth shirt. Almost immediately, he turned her way. “Nora.” His voice was deep and his gaze was intense.

  Just as it was in her memories.

  Suddenly, she felt nervous and giddy. Nora got to her feet. “Good evening, Russell.”

  “Nora?” Braedon said.

  Her aunt glanced from Braedon to Nora to Russell, towering above her. “Russell, I mean, Mr. Champion, perhaps it would be best if you came back another time. Nora is presently occupied with another guest.”

  Russell continued to stare directly at her. “I’d rather hear that from her, ma’am.” After a pause he spoke, his voice as rough as birch bark. “Nora, is that what you want? For me to leave?”

  She knew he chose that phrase on purpose.

  Nora walked to Russell’s side. She was fairly certain that she wasn’t ever going to be able to ask him to leave her again. “Of course you are welcome to stay.”

  Her aunt looked decidedly agitated. “Nora, perhaps now isn’t the best time . . .”

  “It doesn’t matter if it is the best time or not. He’s here, and I’d like him to stay.”

  “Yes . . . with this man suddenly appearing at your doorway, it does seem that the Lord has decided that he should be here. He does work in mysterious ways, of course,” Braedon intoned as he joined them. Perhaps with a bit too much bluster?

  Resolutely, Nora ignored him. Instead, she continued to face Russell. He was now standing with his arms folded across his chest, one hand holding his Stetson. His skin was tan, his shirt was obviously new, and his dark denims were practically painted on. His boots looked like they’d been worn throughout most of west Texas. But it was the look on his face that answered all her questions and then some.

  She’d known that look. It had been absent at his ranch when her appearance took him off guard. But it was back now in force, reminding her of everything she’d once loved and thought she’d lost forever. “I didn’t expect you to come by.”

  “I happened to be in the area,” he drawled. “Reckoned it would be rude to not stop by with me being so close and all.”

  “Most gentlemen wait for an invitation,” Braedon said snidely.

  But instead of looking embarrassed, Russell laughed. “I reckon you are right. Most men would certainly wait to be invited. With bated breath.”

  “But not you?” sneered Braedon, obviously determined to make the already awkward conversation even more uneasy.

  Russell smirked. “I’m not most men.”

  While her aunt wrung her hands and Nora racked her brain for some way to defuse the situation, Braedon strode forward with his hand outstretched. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Braedon Hardy.”

  Russell unfolded his arms and shook Braedon’s hand. “Russell Champion.”

  “Your ears must have been burning. We were just talking about you.”

  Russell looked at Nora. “Is that right?”

  “Russell, won’t you please come in? We were about to have some chocolate cake and coffee.”

  “You su
re now’s the best time?” Aunt Jolene asked.

  It surely wasn’t the best time. But that said, Nora knew she simply wasn’t going to be able to send Russell out the door. “Aunt Jolene, we have plenty. Russell, please do join us,” she added, realizing that she now wanted him to sit with her more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.

  Russell darted a look her way. “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure a man like him wants nothing to do with a lady’s parlor,” Braedon scoffed. “No doubt he’s far more used to the comforts of a saloon.”

  “Not exactly. I don’t drink.” His voice was cool, bordering on chilly. “Nora, I’d love to have a slice of cake if you can spare one. I can’t remember when I’ve last had cake. Did you bake it, by any chance?”

  “I did.” She smiled.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Aunt Jolene said as she walked to the back of the house.

  Feeling like every nerve in her body was zipping through her, Nora led the way to the parlor. Just as she was about to sit back down on her chair, Russell gripped her elbow and neatly deposited her next to him on the sofa. Leaving Braedon to take the chair. After a small hesitation, he sat down, but Nora knew he wasn’t happy about what had just happened.

  She felt herself blush. Again, she knew what she should be doing. She should be steering Russell away, not inviting him to join her.

  “How long have you been gone from Broken Arrow?” Braedon asked Russell.

  “Seven years.”

  “Long time to ignore one’s mother.”

  “It is.”

  “Nora here has been looking after her.” Braedon smiled. “Of course, that shows what a good Christian she is. Since your mother couldn’t count on you, she’s lucky to have Nora.”

  The lines around Russell’s lips tightened, but to his credit, he merely leaned against the sofa’s back. “She has been lucky. Blessed.”

  Nora bit her lip. She was afraid Braedon was going to ask exactly why Russell had left and that Russell was being just ornery enough to say it all.

  Then her aunt would find out far more than she ever needed to know, Braedon would assume she was damaged goods, and Russell would get that dark look of regret in his eyes again, as he came to terms with the fact that it was his stepfather who’d wreaked so much havoc on her life. If there was anything she wasn’t ready to do, it was rehash the past.

  “Yes, seven years is a long time. What have you been doing since you left?” Braedon asked, just as Aunt Jolene entered the room carrying a tray laden with plates and coffee cups.

  “This and that.”

  Nora took over the serving duties, uneager for her aunt to become more involved in the evening’s events than she already was. After placing a plate and a cup in front of Braedon, she gave Russell his.

  “Thank you, darlin’,” he murmured, sheer gratitude lighting his expression.

  And making her lips twitch. Never had Russell been the type to offer throwaway endearments. She guessed that habit wasn’t something he’d picked up while he was gone either. Therefore, he was saying such things to deliberately get a rise out of Braedon, or to make her blush.

  Whichever reason it was, it was working. Across from her, Braedon tightened his lips. She felt her neck and cheeks heat.

  Braedon’s voice turned frosty. “What exactly were you doing? I know you weren’t off fighting. Did you venture into the Indian Wars?”

  “Where Russell has been is none of our concern,” Nora interjected softly.

  “Still, I am curious.”

  “I left home at fifteen years of age. I was a bit too young to join the infantry.” He shrugged. “Even if I’d wanted to, the war was over. However, I had no practice with a pistol. No practice with a rifle except for hunting trips.”

  “Which tells me nothing.”

  Russell stared at him as he neatly forked over a generous bite of cake. “I drifted for a time, then eventually found work for a number of influential men.”

  “Is that how you refer to the Walton Gang? As working under influential men?” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

  Russell set his fork down as his body stiffened. “I can’t say I know anything about you, sir. But if you had ridden with a man like James Walton, you would know better than to ever even consider thinking of him as anything other than what he was.”

  “Influential?” Braedon asked.

  “Powerful. Tough. Deadly.”

  “Yet you stayed.”

  “One didn’t leave the Walton Gang by choice.”

  “Yet you joined it.”

  Nora looked from one man to the other. “Please, let’s not talk about this.”

  “Why?” Braedon asked, his innocent expression looking patently false. “Don’t you want to know what a man like him has done?”

  “I know enough.” When Russell flinched, she immediately regretted her choice of words. “I know enough to know it didn’t change you, Russell.”

  Braedon turned to her. “I’m curious how you know that.”

  “What about you?” Russell asked. “I hear you’re a good Christian man and a preacher. But I don’t believe I know of your church.”

  “Would you even know of such things?”

  “Tell me where it is, and I’ll tell you where I’ve heard of it.”

  “It’s no secret that I am without a church at the moment.”

  “Where was yours?”

  “I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

  “Try me.” Russell’s voice was hard. But there was a new calculating gleam in his eyes that told Nora he’d pressed men for information before.

  “It was out near San Antonio.”

  “Where exactly in San Antonio?”

  “Why do you need to know?” He bristled. “Champion, you act like I’m telling a falsehood.”

  “Those are your words, not mine.”

  Braedon shot to his feet. “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

  Russell shrugged. “I’m not calling you anything. All I’m doing is attempting to figure out who you are and why you’re in Broken Arrow.”

  “I have no need for you to know more about me. Or my business.”

  Looking as if he was barely holding his temper in check, Russell got to his feet. “See, here’s the thing. I think I do need to know more about you. Because Nora says that you’ve been courting her, because you’ve been spending a lot of time in her company.” He paused, then continued, his voice turning to ice. “And, sir, if you mean to spend even more time in her company, then I am gonna need to feel that you are the type of man who deserves that gift.”

  Braedon’s brows rose. “Gift?”

  It looked like Russell was about to spring. “Oh yes, a gift,” he bit out. “Therefore you are either going to prove that you’re everything you say you are . . . or you’re going to need to leave her be.”

  “Russell!” she exclaimed as embarrassment heated her skin.

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. I don’t want you to be upset, but I’m willing to do whatever I need to do in order to make sure you’re happy and safe before—” Abruptly, he stopped.

  “Before?”

  “Before it’s time for me to leave again.”

  He hadn’t said that he was leaving her. He’d said that he was leaving.

  Didn’t that mean something?

  Didn’t that mean he still cared for her?

  As they faced each other, her heart beating so fast that she was sure both Russell and Braedon could hear each thump, she gathered her courage. “Russell, what if I asked you not to leave again? What would you say to that?”

  As Braedon blustered, her aunt chuckled from just outside the doorway, and every muscle in Russell’s body froze, Nora found herself in a place she’d never been before.

  It seemed she’d just gotten the upper hand.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  STARING AT NORA, A DOZEN REPLIES CAUGHT AT THE TIP OF his tongue. But none of them were what she wanted to hear or what he wanted to say.
>
  As the silence between them stretched even tighter, practically pulling every last bit of oxygen from the room, Russell knew he had to get out of there before he did something stupid like offer her the world.

  Therefore, like the coward he was, he turned, walked through Nora’s parlor, then opened the front door and strode outside. Immediately, raindrops pelted against his skin.

  He’d been so worked up he hadn’t even noticed a storm had come.

  Thunder sounded in the distance, stirring up the clouds. As the rain fell harder, soaking his skin, he welcomed the discomfort. Welcomed the reminder of what he should be thinking about instead of wishes and dreams and things that could have been but were never meant to happen.

  From her hitching post, Candy snorted and pawed the ground in annoyance. Candy had been his mount his last few months with the Waltons. No thunderstorm was going to spook her.

  However, her actions reminded him that he wasn’t alone. With a reluctant smile, Russell loosened her tether, then gave in to temptation and smoothed the water from her neck. “That’s right, girl. It’s going to take a lot more than a little bit of rain to wear us down,” he murmured as he turned her around. “Once I set things to rights for Nora, it will be back to just me and you.”

  He should be happy about that, he mused as he swung into his saddle, guided his horse onto the street, then spurred her into a graceful canter.

  Oblivious to the water streaming from heaven and the rivulets of mud forming under her hooves, Candy eagerly increased her pace. Now that they were beyond the town’s limits, Russell clicked his tongue and gave Candy even further rein. She surged forward. This was as it should be, he decided. A man and his horse, riding as one.

  Just as it used to be. Just like it had always been. No ties to a past, no ties to a woman.

  He and Candy knew the routine. They’d ridden alone through open plains for days at a time, stopping only when they were too exhausted to go farther. He enjoyed it.

  He was good at this life.

  It was simply too bad that for most of his life, it had been all he’d ever known.

  Russell was still thinking about Nora and Braedon Hardy the next morning. After sleeping in the barn on a bedroll next to Candy’s stall, he bathed the best he could, dressed, tended to Candy, then headed inside the house to the kitchen. He intended to rustle up something for breakfast for his mother. Things weren’t good between them, but something in the rain had cleansed his soul. He’d realized that holding on to his hurt wasn’t going to help either of them. He needed to leave their past in the past. It wasn’t like they could change it anyway.